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by impactEvents



Series: Wasteland Saints [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impactEvents/pseuds/impactEvents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lone Wanderer kills Moriarty after he attacks Gob, and the pair are temporarily kicked out of Megaton. They return to Underworld, and as the Wanderer continues the search for her father, the pair settle into a comfortable life in the ghoul city. [First few chapters posted on FKM, unedited.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Bullets and a Knock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been quite some time, but i'm - again - attempting to edit & reupload this story and - again - finish it. i'm so sorry to anyone who's still checking this (if you're out there).

_Come take me home tonight_  
_Oh I need you now_  
_I'm lost without you_  
_A million miles but I will find you_  
_So take me home_  
_home // the goo goo dolls_

 

After the first year or so of servitude, Gob had come to expect to be a slave until Moriarty's death. Probably after, too, if the bastard had any say in it. Fifteen years had passed now, and he expected nothing but.

What he _hadn't_ expected was for Miss 101, the ‘Last, Best Hope of Humanity’ herself, to singlehandedly cut that time short.

He _hadn't_ expected her to end the barkeep herself, to take his hand, whisk him away, and wash the blood off his face. He would never have expected to be laying on a mattress in Underworld, or even sleeping in safe company, before Moriarty’s bones turned to dust.

But it happened – all of it. His life flipped right-side up in fewer than five minutes.

 

“Gob!” The dusty figure entering the bar pulled their goggles up to reveal a pair of bright brown eyes. She crammed a taped pair of glasses over them, and danced over to the bar.

“Someone’s excited,” Gob teased, setting down the glass he was cleaning and letting her take his hands. She pulled him into a drawn out hug, as was her typical greeting – overly friendly, overly touchy feely. And as typical, he wondered if she could feel his thumping heart beneath his disfigured chest.

“It’s another letter from your mom! And it’s a fat one!” Lucy drew back and shoved a grubby hand into her a pocket on her duster. She pressed the letter, crisp and white and contrasting with everything he knew, into his hands.

Outside, a dog began whining and scratching at the door. The lone wanderer rolled her eyes, settling them on Moriarty's back. He'd let Jericho’s brand of filth in, but not her mutt’s.

“Let me just go bring Meatie home, a’ight? I'll be back! Right back!” Her shoulders shifted up as she hesitated, but the moment passed, and she ran out the door.

Once the door clanged shut behind her, Nova leaned across the bar to tickle Gob's side. “She almost went for it that time.”

“N-Nova! It’s not that, she's just as handsy with you n’ Moira n’ everyone else.” Gob picked up the glass he’d been cleaning and began furiously scrubbing it again. It only got cloudier as he wiped, though, and he set it back down, still feeling heat under his cheeks, still refusing to meet his friend’s eyes.

“Hm.” Nova hummed a moment, smiling distantly, before frowning. She dropped her voice. “Listen, Gob, you might be in denial, but he's been getting pissy when she comes in and starts with you. Watch it.”

Gob sighed. Supposed flirting aside, of course Moriarty wouldn't like it, him being distracted from the bar for even a moment. Of course he wouldn't like the girl from the radio _he_ constantly shut off coming into _his_ bar, distracting _his_ slave.

 

“Hey zombie, get me a whiskey sour.”

Right. Gob snapped to attention, forgetting the glass he'd set down. One sweep, and off the counter it went. He sucked in a breath. Just a glass. Not alcohol. Not someone’s order. Not -

Not like that would help.

“Boy!” A hand slapped the back of his head, hard. “What've I told you? Pay attention. No visitors if you can't stick to the job, sonny.”

“I’m sorry. Sorry.” He knew right away an apology was the wrong choice. Moriary’s face contorted, and he grabbed the front of Gob’s shirt, apparently not caring that Nova had already disappeared, that half the customers were shifting away uncomfortably. The other half practically cheered for the ghoul’s blood.

And Moriarty was going to give them a show. A fist struck Gob in the jaw, and another in his face. A knee slammed into his groin. Somewhere, distantly, he heard a door slam shut, a voice screech his name, a pistol click as the safety came off.

“Let him go, Colin.”

There she was. Face halfway washed clean, and red with fury, Nova hovering at the door, looking ill. Lucy’s pistol was raised, and her voice echoed through the dingy bar before he could tell her to stop, go, he didn't want her to get involved.

“He’s my property, girlie, you’ve no right to step in.” And indeed, Jericho and the creep slaver he worked with moved to get between the pair and the girl. Through the blood, Gob saw her scowl, eyes darting around the room as she planned her move.

And every time Gob thought back to this moment, he’d be amazed by her swiftness, her decisiveness, her everything as she fired on the men. She went for the pair of slavers first, carefully firing in places they’d recover from, giving the nauseous Nova enough time to gather herself and whallop their skulls with a baseball bat.

Beyond them, Gob felt Moriarty reach for his shotgun. He would never be sure if the man had been meaning to go for Lucy or meaning to use him as leverage, though. Before the barkeep could point it in any particular direction, Lucy fired, a bullet square between his eyes.

Gob toppled over, no longer held up by Moriarty’s grip. The girl scrambled around the counter and pulled him up. She wiped his face with a soft brown hand, her fury and fear settling into something else. She carefully pulled him to his feet, and the pair silently left the bar, the recovered Nova shoving the few remaining patrons out behind them.

 

They must have gone to her house, he figured. The odd building in the corner of town he’d never had a chance to enter. Now, he stared at a bookcase next to the mattress he rested on, trying to read the titles through his blurred vision. Above him somewhere, footsteps banged around before thumping down the staircase and quieting near him.

Lucy settled next to him, a kettle of hot water at her side. She got to work, cleaning the blood as she applied stimpack after stimpack. Neither spoke until she'd wiped most of the blood from his face.

“You’re lucky you didn’t have a nose to break,” she joked, voice hoarse. Gob smiled, the effort hurting his bruised cheek. Lucy noticed, and that look from earlier reappeared. “I'm so sorry. I should’ve known better. I was so excited, wrapped up in everything. And then Nova, she ran in, cryin’ and I came ‘s fast ‘s I could...” Her words slurred as she apologized, her carefully ‘Vault’ accent disappearing as she became more distressed.

Gob closed his clean hand over her free one. “You saved me, Luce. That’s – that’s nothing to apologize for.”

Her frown lifted a bit, and she squeezed his hand. “Stay here tonight. Hopefully Nova can ease things over – “

Rapping at the door cut her off.

“We’ve gotta talk, Lucy. Open up. Now.”

Grimacing, she slunk over to the door and unbolted it. “Si-i-iiiims. What is shakin’,” she said, throwing a pair of finger guns at the sheriff. Overdoing it a bit, Gob thought.

Apparently Sims thought the same, but didn’t care. He pushed past her, shutting the door firmly. “Look, kid. We adore you. I adore you. But you scared a hell of a lot of people, a lot of _customers_ , just now. All I hear is talk of that vault kid going on a rampage through the bar.”

“That isn’t what happened. It was Colin.” Her jaw clenched. “And then Jericho and some slaver fuck of his, who just so it’s on the record, were coming after me.”

“You _killed_ them.”

“Okay, first off, only Colin. And only cause he would’ve killed _Gob_! He’s had it coming for a long time, Lucas.”

“'He had it coming' isn't going to reassure the thirty-odd travelers we've got camped here. We're banking on them for caps.” He placed a callused hand on her shoulder, sighing. “You two have gotta go, kid. Just til this blows over. No number of radio broadcasts are gonna make people forget what they saw – or think they saw,” he added, at her scowl.

She sighed and threw glance back at Gob, who shrugged. “Fine. We’ll leave at dawn.”


	2. The Return

And that was how Gob found himself back in Underworld, with 101 herself clutching his hand.

Willow, yet _again_ , according to Lucy, had fawned over Dogmeat, and had clapped Gob on the shoulder, an uncharacteristically joyful expression on her face as she welcomed him home.

 

He’d expected for her to be popular – what he didn't expect was for himself to be popular. Or missed. But apparently, he was, and Tulip, Quinn, Winthrop, even Barrows greeted him with a tear or two wetting their cloudy eyes. There wasn't much time, though, before Lucy grabbed both his hands and walked backwards up the steps, tugging him along.

The reunion with his mother was unexpectedly painful, and unsurprisingly healing. Greta and Lucy disappeared while the two caught up, only reappearing in time for dinner, specially made molerat stew for her son's return.

After, Lucy brought him to the room she'd set up for herself in Underworld.

“I spent so much time here, 'tween running around for Three-Dog and the Brotherhood, that it just made sense to live here,” she babbled as she led him to an old storage space under the stairs. “It’s kind of a mess, sorry. And you definitely don’t have to stay here, it’s kind of snug, I know, and um, I’m sure Carol’s going to have a space ready tomorrow.”

Gob's eyes wandered around the room as she talked. A power strip was shoved into a corner, outlets full between the terminal on the floor and the holiday lights on the walls. The space across from the door was occupied by a mattress, occupied by a teddy bear and a pile of blankets, tattered and whole both. Shelves filled with junk – mechanical parts, toys, globes – and guns lined the vertical wall.

“It’s like a bomb exploded in here.” He commented with a smirk, making her grin and bump her shoulder into his. “Here’s fine, yeah, I’m sure Mom’s overworked herself enough already today.” Secretely, though, he was glad for it. It wasn't as if he'd be alone, not here, but sleeping with someone had been such a relief, and felt so safe, after years of nights spent restless and fearful.

And, if he was honest, the crush he’d harbored for so long had only intensified after a week of close quarters travel; fortunately it had done so without her apparent knowledge. How embarrassing that revelation would have been, alone on the road together.

“Oh, thank god. I'm so used to sleeping around someone else by now. Usually Meat'd be here but he...” She paused and wrinkled her nose, feigning offense. “ _Elected_ to stay with Willow. Whatever. Bed. Way too much walking today.” She pinned a bed sheet up, creating a make-shift dressing room.

“Too much crying, here.” Gob sat on the edge of the mattress and untied his shoes, carefully looking away from the dressing room. Sheet or not, time spent together in excess or not, he couldn’t understand how she was so comfortable changing around him; worse, it only disproved Nova’s theory about the Wanderer’s crush.

“God. There's a way to tucker yourself out.” She ducked out, wearing a clean jumpsuit. “Got a supply here, bunch of sizes, if you need one.” Her mouth still moved a mile a minute, and Gob found himself frozen as she looked at him expectantly.

“I'm... good.” He eyed the yellow numbers on the pocket. “108?”

“Aaugh, any other topic, quick.” She flopped down behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, tugging him back until they were laying down, her arms around his waist, chest pressed against his back. It was more comfortable and close a position than anything she’d settled on during their trip. He shifted to face her, sure she could feel his heart pounding, and trying to avoid that. Her eyes, glasses cast aside, reflected the multicolored string lights, and brightened when he turned. “Wanna hear a story Carol told me about you?”

“Any other topic,” he imitated. “Quick.”


	3. Ignore It

“Have you been to the museum before, Gob?” Lucy laced her hands behind her, stretching as she walked.

“Nah, the mutants’ve been in there longer than I've been alive.” And while it was true that the Super Mutants didn't go out of their way to bother the ghouls, they sure didn't like it when some thoughtless fool, smoothskin or not, wandered into their territory.

The girl's eyes widened. “You'll love it. I hope, I mean.”

“Luce, you cleared the place out for me. I'll like it.”

The vault girl smiled, obviously pleased, and took his hand. Was this actually a date? He almost hoped not, if only because he would definitely shove his foot in his mouth if it were.

“I wish it could just stay that way, yunno? I’d like to take back at least a little of the mall...” She eyed the Brotherhood troops in the distance, guarding the library, and trailed off.

“So, what strings did you have to pull to get Charon out of Ahzrukhal's grasp?” He glanced at her face quick enough to see her startle at the change in topic.

“No one told... He's dead.” Lucy hooked her elbow around his and began picking at her fingernails. “I bought Charon's contract, cause, well. I volunteered to help Ahzrukhal and his idea of _help_ was… awful, to put it nicely. So, yunno, I got scared he'd hurt someone, decided to blow the caps, and Charon... you can guess, I think.

“So I told him I couldn't issue him orders like that, just couldn't, and, so, um. He and Willow just trade off on guard duty now. I think they’re a couple? They were sneaking around before, so, it’s been kinda nice, seeing Willow less stressed.” She rushed through her words and waved a free hand. “Then there was the whole mess with Crowley – I don't... know if you knew him?”

Gob shook his head.

“Thought s'much. He'd only been here a bit. Tried to hire me as a merc, passed it off as a good deed, and when I brought him what he wanted, he left, but never came back.” She shrugged. “Underworld's clean of jerks now, though.”

“Here’s to it staying that way,” Gob said, trying not to stare. How did she do it? Everywhere she went, she left a trail covered in the blood of monsters, literal and human. Paradise Falls, here, Megaton, probably a half dozen other places Three-Dog had failed to mention. He'd seen plenty of heroes and do-gooders before, it shouldn't have been that impressive.

But it was, and she must have caught the look he was giving her, because her face flushed.

“I just want to help. Those who do good have good come to them, and all.” Having reached the museum steps, she unhooked arms and dashed to hold the door for him.

 

The next hour was spent exploring the halls, hurrying through the eerie vault tour, and touching exhibits with crumbling 'Do Not Touch' signs. Finally, they pushed open a particularly heavy pair of doors to enter a round room with a tall and equally round ceiling. Lucy dashed to a console sitting between rows of seats, pushed a few buttons, and yanked a couple loose seat cushions on her way back to the center. She passed one to Gob, and laid in the center of the room, excitedly patting the spot next to her.

As he flopped down, the lights began to dim. A Pre-War recording began to play, and lights appeared overhead – planets, stars, solar systems, galaxies – as the narrator took them on a virtual tour of the universe. The second the lights came back on, the lone wanderer hopped back to the console, pushed a second button, and tapped a few buttons on her Pip-Boy.

“Found _this_ one in an office in Underworld,” she commented, and as if to confirm her words, the dinosaur and mammoth appeared overhead, the otherwise barely recognizable lobby crowded with people. The film zoomed in to the dinosaur, and transitioned to animation of a live _Tyrannosaurus rex_ roaring. A different narrator, British, began speaking, discussing an extinction event. Gob hardly paid attention to the words; the dinosaurs, so similar to deathclaws in appearance, were fascinating in ways the mutations were not.

“I don't ever want to see a real one, but they're amazing.” Lucy echoed his thoughts aloud. “Even if a lil' space rock did, yunno, blast 'em all. We handled the apocalypse a lot better.”

Gob scrunched his brow and gave her a look.

“No, really! Like. Not here. Not in DC. But out west, California, they’ve got a whole government, safe roads. And north of here, Boston? They’ve got real cities. Safe trade routes. Like how there used to be. At least, that’s what my dad’s friend was telling me.”

“Wish people here could organize like that.”

“Yeah. I just gotta find my dad. Once… once he’s here, we can get the purifier running. And things will start getting better.” As she spoke, her fingers found Gob’s, and threaded themselves between his. “I’ve been searching all the local vaults. Trying to retrace his steps, yunno. I’m not losing him.” The unspoken _again_ hung for a moment.

“You won’t.” Gob let go, and put his arm around her shoulders. They laid there, silent, until the video ended, and the dim lights flickered back on. He moved to sit, but she turned on her side to face him.

“I'm sorry I didn't get you out of there sooner,” she whispered. “I know I said so before. But I'm so sorry. It feels like... there's only one way to solve things out here, sometimes. I wanted to help you _right_ , pay your debt off. I didn’t want you hurt more over a grumpy old man’s temper.

“Everyone in the vault was so… You were supposed to ignore that – everything from bullying to the guy beating his wife down the hall. If someone was treated wrong, you ignored it or brought it up with the overseer, so he could ignore it. Anyone who acted was... everyone thought a little less of them for the weakness. I never wanted that to happen. Yunno. With you.”

The ghoul squeezed her hand, and, hesitating, planted a kiss on her head. The strongest person he knew, worried he’d think her weak?

“Never.”


	4. Platonics & Corruption

That night was Gob's official 'welcome home' party. On their way out of the tech museum, Gob and Lucy had filled a maintenance cart with every soda bottle and snack they could find. Winthrop had hooked an old speaker system up for the occasion, and Carol had put some extra effort in sprucing up the Ninth Circle (clearly, Gob thought with a smile, she didn’t consider Greta’s idea of decor – extra alcohol strewn across the room – to be decoration enough).

The vaultie had been glued to Gob’s side until an hour into the party. Now, she sat curled up in a corner with Tulip, flashing him a smile or silly face every time she caught him looking at her. Eventually, Tulip hopped up, and Gob took the chance to escape Quinn’s ‘Atom Bomb Shot’ demonstration.

“What the hell’s he doing over there?” Lucy waved her Nuka towards the bar.

“Some kinda drink he picked up in Rivet City. You drop a shot of vodka in a glass of Quantum and chug.”

“Huh. Yunno, I really didn’t think Quantum could get any more toxic.”

“I saw someone in Megaton try to do it once. Spilled the crap all over the place choking. Anyway, you might want to stay back without some Rad-X, pretty sure they’re using irradiated, uh... everything.”

The pair watched as Willow slammed back the first drink.

“That was _nothing_. The rads were more of a buzz than the alcohol!”

Gob shook his head as Patches tried to offer his ‘expert’ opinion. He looked away as Lucy tugged on his shirt sleeve.

“I’m gonna go keep Greta company on her smoke break.” The vaultie hesitated, then leaned in close to kiss him on the cheek, and dashed for the door the older ghoul was holding open, leaving him slack-jawed and slightly fazed. No, completely platonic. He’d just seen her kiss Willow, who by all accounts was entirely spoken-for, the same way. One-hundred percent platonic. He determinedly ignored his own forehead kiss earlier – there was no reason to believe she actually took a gesture clearly meant as a comfort as anything _but_ platonic. His thoughts started to spiral as he stared at her back.

As if reading his mind, Greta shot him a finger gun and a wink before shutting the door behind her.

 

He didn’t have much longer to spiral, however; a pair of Nukas clanked onto the table, breaking his train of thought. He glanced up, briefly, opening both bottles once the person’s silhouette moved into the light. Carol smiled in thanks and took several sips before speaking.

“I know I told you all this last night, but seeing you here makes this place feel like home again, Gob.” She leaned on his shoulder and lightly gripped her bottle, running her spotted fingers over the condensation. “I hope you’ll stay at least a little while.”

Gob twisted in his seat and lifted a brow at his mother.

“I hadn’t planned on going anywhere.”

“Oh, you just used to talk all the time about how excited you were to explore the world. And Lucy, well, I thought you might be going with her the next time she leaves.”

“We haven’t talked about it.”

He hadn’t brought it up. She had a self-assigned mission, a dangerous one, and he had… nothing to offer. The trip from Megaton to Underworld, she’d taught him the basics of her arsenal, little of which he’d been able to really grasp. He was fairly useless at bartering, being both a ghoul and significantly less pushy than the vaultie. His one useful ability was staying quiet and out of sight, which he didn’t consider incredibly useful without any other skill sets.

“I think she might prefer company.” Carol gave Gob a reassuring smile. “She likes you.”

“She likes everyone.” _Almost_ , he thought, her expression upon busting into the bar, gun in hand, popping into his head.

“Talk to her.” She patted his hands. “Trust me.”

 

“ _God_ , that thing is ugly. Anyone ever think about getting rid of it?”

Greta’s eyes flicked down the stairs to where Lucy stood, staring at the mammoth, lip curled in disgust.

“Winthrop likes it. Says it’s _iconic_.” She took a deep breath from her cigarette, and Lucy imagined for a second that the exhaled smoke was the mammoth burning. “No one else’ll touch the thing. They think it’s full of bugs.”

“Bugs are cuter than _that_ nasty thing.”

“Not when they’re crawling all over your skin,” Greta crept forward and ghosted her fingers over the back of Lucy’s neck and shoulders, making her jump.

“No!” She shuddered and tilted her head in consideration. “Radroaches are pretty cute, though. I had a pet one in the vault.”

The ghoul looked at her for a long moment, her cigarette nearly falling from her fingers. “That’s... disgusting.”

She stuck her tongue at Greta and leaned back on the railing. They had almost settled into a comfortably quiet silence when the ghoul spoke.

“How’s that project of yours going?”

Lucy cringed. “Crappy. I’m almost through all the data. Nothing so far.”

“Sorry, kid. I know how tight your schedule is.” Greta dropped on her finished cigarette and ground it into the marble.

“You wanna head back?” The vaultie pushed off the railing and moved to start up the stairs.

“No. I wanted to talk to you, Lucy,” she said, rubbing her brow.

“Sure,” she said, freezing in place. “Whatcha need?”

“Right. First of all, you gotta lay off the offering to help everyone constantly. You’re gonna drive yourself into the ground if you keep it up. Take a damn breather once in a while.”

“Thanks a lot, _mom_.” Lucy stuck out the very tip of her tongue.

“Seriously, kid.” Greta scowled and whacked the vaultie’s shoulder. “Second - and I’m using all my good karma time here, so listen up. You gotta fess up to Gob, doll. It’ll be a weight off your shoulders, I promise. Clear your focus for this project.”

A deep red burned into the girl’s cheeks, her smile disappearing. “Confess what?”

“Don’t play me. You two are so clearly head over heels for each other. Worse than Carol ‘n me ever were. You haven’t said a word to him, have you?”

“There’s nothing to say anything about! We’re just close. He’s more into… I dunno.” Lucy stared at the ground, wedging a piece of marble out of a crack. “I don’t really… have time for relationships right now. Anyway.”

Greta dragged a hand down her face. This, coming from the knucklehead who spent a whole day away from her terminal to make someone happy. She wondered if Gob knew just how precious the girl’s father’s time was, and how precious _he_ must be to have taken some.

“Kid, I really don’t think that much would change. He and Carol are birds of a fuckin’ feather - if you don’t speak up, he probably won’t ever, and you’ll be this stressed out - ”

“I’m not stressed out!”

“ - forever. The only person here more high strung than _you_ is the doc. And that’s it, time’s up.” She stepped back and threw her palms up. No protesting.

“Oh praise Atom, normal Greta’s back.” Lucy pretended to fan herself from the relief.

“I’ll be here all spring.” She bowed dramatically. “I’m heading back, you coming?”

“Nah, I should really get some work done while things are still quiet downstairs.”

“Want me to pass that intel on to Gob? Get some private time?” Greta winked and elbowed the vaultie, causing her face to flush all over again.

“God! Greta!”

Cackling, the ghoul yanked one of the solid wooden doors open and disappeared. Lucy sank onto the cool steps and stared up at the ceiling until her cheeks cooled off.

 

Eventually, sleep from a longer, if not more active, day than usual caught up with him. Gob thanked everyone for the noisy welcome back, and said his good-nights. He paused next to Greta, who’d returned earlier, alone.

“Have you seen Lucy?”

“In her room.” Greta wiggled her brow. Gob gave her a look. “She’s working, before this lot migrates downstairs.”

Waving a thanks, he left.

“Soldier! These halls have been empty. Report!”

“There was a party, upstairs?” Gob edged away from the robot, towards Lucy’s door. “Um, why didn’t you go?”

“The fight against Communism does NOT take breaks for parties! Also, I was not informed. And I hate every one of you God-forsaken bastards.”

“ _Thank you_ for the reminder! _Bye_.” Gob quickly slipped into Lucy’s room, latching the door behind him. “Can you maybe upload Wadsworth’s programming into that thi-”

The girl sat on a folded up pile of clothing in front of the terminal, forehead resting on her knees, arms loosely wrapped around her legs. A tin of Carol’s carrot bread lay on its side next to her, crumbs all over the keyboard. Gob glanced at the screen.

_DATA CORRUPTED  
PLEASE SEE A SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR_

“Luce?” Gob put a hand on her shoulder; she jerked awake.

“Hey! Hi. Sorry, I had to finish this.” She gestured towards the computer. “S’useless. Got this list, of vaults, from the tech exhibit. Doesn’t have the coordinates anywhere, though. I gotta go tomorrow.”

“Where?” Gob asked, feeling his chest constrict with worry.

“The purifier.” She leaned into Gob as he sat down. “Meat and I went once, found a holotape Dad left there. But we couldn’t get past the lab. S’why I tried this,” she said, shoving her feet up against the terminal’s base.

“What happened?” He settled down next to her, folding his own arms and legs up in the narrow space.

“We got jumped by a huge super mutant. I managed to shoot one of its eyes out, but that just pissed it off. And when we got outside, some of ‘em smashed up my bike.” She winced at the memory. “Winthrop’s helping me fix up another, but I have no idea when I’ll find the parts for a sidecar. So I’m gonna try and sneak in this time. I have a few stealth boys I’ve been saving.”

“Can Dogmeat even wear stealth boys?”

She laughed, short and tense, but shrugged to ease the harsh sound. “He can’t. I’m going alone. The muties go hunting around mid-afternoon, so I’ll head over then.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? With what happened?”

Another shrug. “I’m not dragging anyone else into my personal crap, not with that kind of risk attached.”

“You’ve taken a whole lotta risks for me. I dunno about anyone else, but I’d repay those every one in a second.” Gob’s gaze moved from the floor to her face. “I know I’m, um. I know my aim isn’t great, and I don't have a whole lot of experience out there, but if they’ll be out anyway... I mean, I can stay quiet, and I can watch your back.”

Lucy held her breath. If she was being honest with herself, had anyone else had volunteered, she’d have snapped up the offer in an instant. Not that she didn’t want help, any help.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Gob,” she said, slowly, glancing at the fading bruises on the side of his face. “Especially not if it’s over you thinking you owe me or something.”

“That’s not why I’m offering.”

She narrowed her eyes and stared at him, hard – thinking, weighing the risks, appreciating his offer, hoping to the heavens he was being honest here.

But he’d never lied to her since they met, and she’d never doubted him, in any capacity.

“I guess… we better get some sleep, then.”


	5. Fifteen Seconds

“Just, one more time. They last fifteen minutes - “

“When they’re about to die, they vibrate.”

“For fifteen seconds.” Lucy peeked from behind the bridge guard at the Memorial’s gift shop door. A small party of super mutants had headed south just shy of five minutes ago, and she’d been watching for more since.

“Silencers. Stealth boys...” Lucy drifted off, running through her checklist one last time. “Let’s go.”

The pair hustled forward, hunched over, and slipped inside. Gob watched as Lucy flicked the switch on her stealth boy, and disappeared. When she moved, the air where she’d been began to shimmer slightly. She froze again, listening, he figured, and fully vanished. A hand tapped his, indicating they should move forward. He turned his own stealth boy on; the device hummed on his wrist. He watched the space in front of him carefully, trying not to lose track of her shimmer.

A single super mutant sat in the ruined lab, building a pyramid out of rotted books. Gob kept his focus on Lucy, following her to the far end of the room. Ahead, she eased open a door and crept through, holding it for him. He slipped in behind her, letting out a breath when the metal plates closed between them and the mutant.

The pair dipped in and out of the relatively goreless side rooms, pausing once to discard their dead stealth boys and turn on new ones. Gob kept watch while Lucy sifted through old papers and holotapes, looking for anything, he assumed, in her father’s handwriting.

 

“Smell things, must look.”

Gob’s head snapped right; a shadow approached from one of the connecting hallways. He ducked back into the room and tapped Lucy. _Time to go._

Her shimmer appeared to shake its head; she quickened her pace flipping through the files. Gob stared down the hallway, listening, shrinking back when the centaur and overlord turned the corner. No wonder the place was empty; who needed a group when you had a two-mutant task force?

Reaching out, he patted her shoulder more insistently. Lucy jerked her head up, eyes widening at the approaching shadows. She shoved a disk into her pack and readied her assault rifle. The pair backed up against the wall closest to the doorway and waited. Gob held his breath as the centaur shuffled into the room, trying not to look too closely at the many boils on its back.

Had she not been invisible, he might have seen the look of horror on Lucy’s face as his stealth boy deactivated with a soft hiss. The centaur twisted more rapidly than he would have thought possible, spitting at the ghoul. Bile splattered against most of his left leg; it was only years of working for Moriarty that helped him to silence his pained gasp as it burned through his cargos and tore away at his flesh. Hunched over in pain, he went for the stimpack in his pocket.

Lucy had begun firing at the centaur the second it attacked, rushing it to distract it from the visible target. Hollering paired with heavy footsteps thundered and echoed down the hall as the mutant heard his pet’s screams. Once the centaur was down, Lucy spun around and dashed out the doorway, Gob limping after her.

She had discarded her heavier gear, shot out the overlord’s other eye, and seemed focused on leading it down the hall. Laying flat on his stomach, Gob picked up her abandoned rifle and aimed. The floor was an effective enough steadying tool; he managed to shoot it enough in the back and neck before it decided he was more of a nuisance than the invisible human with the pistol and tiny blade. The second its back was turned, Lucy darted forward and stabbed the overlord in the side, digging and twisting the knife in the wound until almost her entire hand was buried. The super mutant roared and thrashed, attempting to shake her off. But at that point, it didn’t matter, and the mutant toppled forward as Lucy ripped her hand free.

“Gob!” The vaultie scrambled over the body and raced towards him, yanking off and discarding her own stealth boy. “Shit. Shit. C’mon.” She quickly reattached her gear and helped him stand. “Let’s get back to that room - the one with the, like, pools. Rinse this shit off.”

 

Lucy deposited Gob next to one of the flood pools, then went to shut and lock both doors.

“Should keep out anything that comes back. Shit. Lemme see that,” she said, motioning for his stealth boy. She popped the back open, only to find a mess of melted circuitry.

“The puke hit me on the arm,” he explained. “What happened?”

“A dud, maybe. Probably. Shit. I’m so sorry, Gob.” Sitting at the edge, she helped him peel the bits of pant leg off as it soaked, rinsing away the bile. Once his leg was clean, she injected a stimpack into the worst looking area, apologizing all the while. Her goggles, still filthy with blood, dangled around her neck.

“Luce, there’s no way you could’ve known that would happen. It’s okay. I’m fine. High pain tolerance, and all, I guess.”

“I have more stims. Need more?”

“You aren’t hurt?”

“Not bad.” Gob made a disbelieving expression. “I can’t really _feel_ it.”

“Where?”

Sighing, Lucy took off her jacket and turned her back towards Gob. A dark brown bruise was spread across her back, sticking out even against her dark skin, and fading well past the edges of her tank top.

“How bad’s it look?”

“Like it’ll hurt worse later than it does now. Can you reach, or…”

She passed him a stimpack and lifted the tank as far as she could, exposing the bruise in its entirety. Gob plunged the stimpack into the center of the mark.

“You should probably take a look at it again tonight.”

“Since when’ve you known all this medical stuff?” Lucy grinned, turning and tugging her tank back down.

“I dunno about… medical stuff, really. Just bruises, cuts, yunno.” He hesitated, realizing she was frowning, connecting the dots. “What, um, did you find anything about your dad?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Lucy scrambled for her bag and scooted forward until they were both close enough to hear the holotapes. They played several without learning much, and with a few tears on Lucy’s part, before finding anything useful.

Lucy tapped the coordinates in and whistled quietly. “He was so close. It’s, like, right down the road from Megaton.” She extended her Pip-Boy to the ghoul and tapped the screen, mapping a route between the town and vault.

“Not bad.” A flash of white sticking out of her bag’s side-pocket caught Gob’s eye. “Missed one, though.”

“Huh?” She twisted and grabbed the final tape. “Oh. Found this one in that last room. It’s not labeled or anything. Probably blank. Dad’d never leave a holo unlabeled.”

“Why not check anyway?”

“Ugh, no, I hate the noise blank ones make when you try to play them!”

“Let me check. What if there is something? What if it’s a message?”

 

The thought of a secret message convinced her, and once her ears were properly covered, Gob clicked the Pip-Boy’s play button. A softer voice than James’ began to speak; he paused it and motioned for her to uncover her ears.

“Sounds like one of the scientists.”

“Probably Dr. Lee.” Lucy’s disappointment was plain. “Of course she doesn’t label her tapes.” Despite that, she reset the tape and hit play. It wasn’t the doctor. The question of the speaker was answered only moments later, when they addressed someone.

It wasn’t long before Lucy’s wide-eyed reverence became horrified embarrassment. She slammed the stop key and shoved the tape to the bottom of her bag. Gob tried (and failed, horribly) to hold back laughter, causing Lucy to dramatically fling herself into him and beg him to forget this.

“Please, you’ve seen my parents embarrass me enough,” he joked, desperately trying to reel his grin back in. She stuck out her tongue and settled her head on his uninjured leg.

“I have so many questions. About her. I mean, I thought she was a vaultie. I thought we all were. I want, I want to know where she was _born_ , where _I_ was born, where her favorite places were. I want to know if I have, like, family. Cousins. A grandmom.”

“Well.” Gob tapped her Pipboy’s map. ”Now you can ask.”

“Yeah. God, took long enough.” She wiped her eyes with a grimy hand. “How is it?” she asked.

“Feels mostly healed.” He pulled his leg out of the irradiated water to dry and watched Lucy’s face as she inspected the burns. Mostly her eyes. She rarely removed her glasses or goggles in public, joking that they hid the permanent bags restless wasteland nights left under her eyes, and to allow her that one small vanity without question. They were beautiful - brown with, in _just_ the right light, gold flecks towards the iris. The dim facility overheads and the green Pipboy screen didn’t exactly provide that perfect light, but even so.

Lucy must have caught on to his stillness, because she raised a brow at him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said, practically choking the words out.

“Nothing _nothing_. I’ve caught you with that look more than once.”

“What look?”

“All… sad-like. And happy. It’s both and that worries me, and I can’t _tell_ what it is, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Normal expression. I swear,” he lied. Partially – it _was_ his normal expression around her, according to, well, everyone.

Lucy held his gaze, eyes slightly narrowed. She pursed her lips as if about to speak. Without warning, an icy hand slid under his shirt and up his side, and her serious expression dissolved into glee as he jerked up at the unexpected cold. Cackling, Lucy rolled out of range before he could retaliate.

“In all seriousness, though,” she said, rolling back into place. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?”

“Okay. Please don’t like, laugh at me, if this is totally absurd.” Lucy hesitated, but before she could continue, the thudding of several pairs of giant feet sounded down the hall. “Actually, you know what, this is a really bad place for that and let’s pick this up later. Maybe,” she rushed, jumping up and yanking her armor back on.

“Y-yea. Good idea.” He jumped up, equally fast. His face burned with heat, and just as he realized what he’d hoped to hear in that moment, he realized that maybe, Carol was right.

Their stealth boys on, Lucy slipped a hand into his and unlocked the doors.


	6. Going

“You’re going tomorrow?” Gob was beginning to feel like this would happen a lot. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, not with her father this close, but still. “Shouldn’t you... take a rest day?”

Lucy shook her head quickly, her braids following each shake. “He’s been there for weeks. If he’s hurt, or - no, I gotta go soon.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“I - I do. I’m taking my bike, though. To get there faster. It only seats two, so…”

“Oh.” Gob shoveled down a few spoonfuls of mashed potatoes, embarrassed. Right. Of course she’d want to get there - and return - as soon as possible. Especially if he was hurt. It made sense.

“I’ll be back soon. It’s only a couple hours by bike.” Lucy reached across the table and folded her fingers into his free hand. “It’ll take a day, tops. Promise.”

Across the room, Greta whistled sharply, and the vaultie yanked her hand away before mirroring Gob’s shoveling. Carol frowned and elbowed her wife, which only caused her to snicker.

 

“I’m prolly not gonna… be around as much when I come back.” They were curled up in bed together, both exhausted, both having trouble sleeping. “Dad’s gonna wanna work on the purifier right away. So I... might not be around. As much. Just letting you know.”

Gob squeezed her shoulders. Tingles shot through his arm – they’d been lying down so long, unable to either sleep or do things, that it’d gone slightly numb.

“We’ll all survive. You’ve been gone longer, yunno.” When she didn’t answer, he glanced down to see if she’d fallen asleep. Brown eyes caught his pale ones, reminding him of their unfinished conversation.

“What’d you wanna talk about? Earlier?”

She tensed almost imperceptibly, instantly. “This… probably isn’t a good time, either. Or place.”

“You _did_ bring it up first in a mutie base, Luce. I mean, I – I won’t push if you’re not okay with talking. That’s just a little...”

“Weird?” Lucy laughed, and Gob felt some of the tension dissipate.

“Well, I didn’t want to say _that_ , but… a little inconsistent, sure. How serious is it?”

She shrugged, a gesture that, lying on her side, just moved one shoulder to her chin before she dropped it. “Serious enough to be stressful. Not serious enough to be urgent.” She paused and started working a finger through the hole in his shirt. “Serious enough to change what you think of me. Maybe.”

“Do you really know how hard it’d be to change my opinion of you? Just so you know, it’s pretty high.”

She smiled, and dug her finger a little deeper into the hole, tickling his side. “Do you wanna share that? Your opinion?”

“I’ll share if you will.”

“Mmm, hard bargain. And I asked first, so you’re up.”

Gob laughed softly. Her fingernail poked him in retaliation, before her arm flopped back over his chest. He watched her head rise and fall with his breathing, felt her snuggle deeper into his side. No, nothing she could do would change how he felt.

“You were the nicest person to walk into that bar since I got stuck there. And then you left, and the radio worked again, and Three-Dog couldn’t stop talking about you. And you were a _hero_. And somehow, I got it in my head that, you’re a hero now, and heroes have better things to do than come to some shitty town to hang out in a shitty bar with a ghoul. But… you did.

“You used to ask before touching me. Every time. And then, Nova got so annoyed, she threatened to push you into me if you asked before hugging again. And even though I love your hugs and all, it was the sweetest thing, I thought. That you thought about that at all.

“You’re affectionate and protective and _kind_ and I feel like… all those things get lost out here. Not everywhere. But here, they do. So. I do have a high opinion of you. I mean, I love you.” It was simultaneously the longest and most embarrassingly emotional speech he'd ever given, and he was thankful for the immediacy of her reaction, sparing him the wait.

“You _love_ me?” Lucy propped herself up on her elbows, grinning something fierce. But there was something else, something almost like worry in her eyes, and he could swear...

“That’s nothing new, Luce.”

“Yeah, but it never came after a whole _speech_.” Gob frowned, hearing a slight strain in her voice. “You could make someone think you _like_ like them, talking like that.” She flopped back onto the mattress and winced.

“I – sorry – bruise hurt?”

“A little. Could you grab a stim from – yeah, the blue bag.” Lucy eased her tank top up, the stiffness in her back making arm movements difficult.

“Where’s it worst?”

“Oh, everywhere. Stim me up,” she said, wriggling back until she bumped into his knees.

“Done. You’re free to sleep.” Gob moved to lie back down, pausing on his elbows when she didn’t move. “You okay?”

“I, um.” She reached over to the wall and started fiddling with the holiday light strings. She sounded strange. She’d been sounding strange. Finally, she curled into his side and sighed, and he didn’t mind that she hadn’t actually said her problem, or what she thought of him. She breathed into his side, their arms tangled around each others’ bodies, and that was enough.

Her voice broke the silence, hitting him just as sleep did. “Yeah.”


	7. Knights

The sun barely had time to rise before she left.

She tugged on her road pants, perched at the edge of the mattress. A brief fantasy flashed through her mind – of Gob waking, seeing her half-dressed, that look that she most certainly _could_ place on his face; of him asking her to stay, her falling into his arms as they closed around her, his lips finally, _finally_ pressing to hers.

But he was still sound asleep – deservedly so – and she couldn’t stay, even if he was ready to talk about it. Her father’s project could save the wasteland; could prevent it from spiraling any further than it already had. And if all she had to do to get the Brotherhood in on Project Purity was _find_ him, well, she would have to do that.

 _And then_ , she thought, looking to the sleeping ghoul behind her, _maybe he’ll want to talk about it_. She brushed her fingers over his, leaving her room key behind, resisting the desire to kiss him good-bye.

\---

_Goooood morning, Capital Wasteland! Everyone’s favorite vault dweller was spotted breaking the last known speed limit this morning – good thing we don’t have those anymore, huh? Still, slow down a little, kid!_

“She finally found something, did she? Oh, leave it, I like this one.” Carol smacked Greta’s hand away from the radio as a peppy tune began to play. “I hope she finds him.”

“Alive, you mean.” Greta added, pointedly.

Gob nodded in agreement, not quite listening as he silently chewed his cereal. The small key might as well have been more centaur bile, for what it was burning into him through the shirt pocket. There were no locked doors in Underworld, not really, but the key and a small note – _be back soon_ – had weight in them, a promise that she’d come back.

The question of a separate room for Gob had never born any fruit. Neither he nor Lucy took steps to find a place, and she hadn’t pushed for him to sleep elsewhere – honestly, she’d almost seemed as if she hoped for their sleeping arrangement to be permanent, a thought that he shook away as misinterpretation every time it cropped up.

“James is a smart man, he wouldn’t get killed out there. Never had any trouble before, he won’t now, either.”

Gob jerked his thoughts away from the key at Carol’s words. “Wait, what?”

Greta’s harsh laugh sounded. “Yeah, kid, he and his wife used to visit here all the time. Don’t you remember? They bought crap tons of Carol’s carrot bread.” She laughed again, and took another sip of coffee. “Extra when Catie got pregnan – ” An unusually piercing look from Carol silenced her.

“ _That_ was them?” He hardly remembered; he’d been in the fuzzy stage between toddler and child, where memories were just barely beginning to form, and he himself just beginning to ghoulify.

But he remembered the young couple, the man with the soft voice, and the woman with kind brown eyes. They stayed overnight most times they visited, departing in the morning with a displeased Brotherhood escort.

As he tried to place memories of Lucy’s parents, he caught the two women exchanging a look, his mother’s lips tightening almost imperceptibly, Greta’s brow furrowing, as they held a silent discussion. The room’s mood shifted, the excitement from Three Dog’s announcement draining as fast as Greta’s coffee. She stood, patting Carol’s hand before leaving.

Gob looked back to Carol. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

She shifted her chair closer to his, reaching out to place a hand on his. He startled, nerves getting to him after the mood shift, but stayed seated. Silence stretched between them while he waited for an explanation.

“I wonder sometimes if I’d told you these things if you’d have run off like that,” she started. “I meant to, you know. But then you were gone, and now that you’re back, I... well, I’ve been trying to find the right time.”

He waited, squeezing her hand. “Now’s a time, I guess.” Ideas of what she could have to say trickled through his mind, barely sticking before the next rolled in. Whatever it was, it had to be related to Lucy’s parents. There was more there than Carol or Greta had let on, obviously – the familiar nickname, the near disproportionate concern for Lucy and her efforts to find her father; there was _something_ there.

“We were friends with them, Catherine and James. Just by chance, you know the Brotherhood kept us well away from the Project. But one day they came to us, furious with panic, anger, you know. There’d been an incident, a child at the Citadel had been injured – but worse, to the Brotherhood, anyway, he’d healed. Wounds stitched themselves right back up, in front of everyone in the medbay. Now, even though it was just the early stages, you know those knights or whatever they fancy themselves, they decided on, ah, a course of action. And James and Catie, not liking that course, well. They took him. And brought him here.”

She looked at Gob expectantly, her words taking time to sink in.

His parents were Brotherhood. It wasn’t a question he’d ever wanted an answer to – Carol and Greta were parents enough, parents perfect, honestly – and its resolution cut deeper than he’d expected it to.

He cleared his throat. “Who... do you know who?” He didn’t really want the answer, but curiosity was hard to beat.

Carol shook her head, quickly. “We don’t know. Greta wanted to kill them herself, she was so steamed, so I told Catie no, don’t tell us.

“I was going to tell you when you got older, if you were curious, but then you ran off. And now... I just want you to be careful, dear. I know you’re not thirteen anymore, I know you’ve been through hell and back, hon,” she paused, tears threatening to leak from her eyes at the thought. “But I worry. Lucy’s a dear, but sometimes she thinks she can force everyone to get along with willpower alone, and if James really does come back... well.”

She looked up from their entangled hands and met his eyes. Her hand pressed harder on his, the worry rolling from her in waves.

“There will be a _lot_ of knights around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW that one took forever to get to! hopefully with that writer's block inducing discussion out of the way, things will start to go faster! :)
> 
> i also wanted to mention my own idea of how ghoulification happens - which is that the mutation, when it first occurs, only shows the positive symptoms, and it's the continual wear on the body that triggers the skin, hair, eyes, and other bits to get ghouly. healing from an unrecoverable injury becomes a bittersweet sort of thing..


	8. The Return, II

It was wrong, wrong, all wrong.

Lucy gritted her teeth against the fear and pain as the pod closed around her, needles and suction cups finding her tenderest bits and latching to them. She’d tried to get him out another way, tried to hack the system, break the glass, _anything_ , as the Handies hovered over her, encouraging her to _please, put your vault suit_ _on_ _and step into the machine_.

Now she was left with no apparent choice, and as it sealed and her mind drifted away, to a town, to another life, it clung to thoughts of returning to Underworld, and to Gob.

\---

_Good morning, ladies, gents, everyone outside and in between! Another sunny day in our favorite wasteland, another story about our saint of the wasteland! Remember how she got the boot from Megaton over a bar brawl, folks? Well, our sources say as of yesterday afternoon she’s back in Sheriff Simm’s good graces. Can’t stay mad at you for long, huh, kid?_

Gob turned down the radio when no further news was announced. He wasn’t much in the mood for the jazzy tune Three Dog had selected, not with both yesterday’s news and worry about Lucy’s journey crowding his thoughts. Refusing to let himself drown in them, though, he stood, and went to find Willow.

 

“Okay, hold the butt right – move it, mutt.” Willow nudged Dogmeat back with a booted foot. “– there, yeah. Aim for that target its stupid ass is wearing. Hold your breath before firing, it’ll steady ya.”

 _Crack._ Gob exhaled as the lone super mutant across the mall staggered. Roaring, it began to charge toward the museum.

“Haha, holy _shit!_ Go, Gob, go!” She cheered, and snatched up her own rifle. The pair fired off several rounds before it finally toppled.

“Jesus.” He sat up and pressed his palms into the concrete wall beneath him.

“C’mon, this is nothing compared to what you ‘n Lucy dealt with.” She slapped him on the back, grinning wildly.

“Yeah, it’s kind of hard to miss when you’re that close.” He shrugged and picked the rifle back up, beginning to strip and clean it as she’d shown him. Willow nodded approvingly as he went.

“You’d be surprised. You sure caught on quick, though. Your girl’s in for a shocker when she gets back.” She nudged him and winked. He rolled it off, the joke not being the first. “Where’d she go, anyway, she say?”

“There’s another vault near Megaton, so round there.” Gob clicked the last piece back into place and handed Willow the rifle for assessment. She nodded again, satisfied.

“Eh, that’s nothing. She’ll be back soon as shit, kid.”

\---

_Good evening, friends. It’s been almost a week since our girl wanderer wandered west of Megaton – where are ya, Luce? Ol’ Three Dog’s getting worried about you._

Gob switched off the broadcast, just as he’d done every morning and night for the past seven days. Dogmeat looked up at him and whined, pawing at his legs.

“Yeah, I know.” He reached down and rubbed the hound’s ears, letting his hand rest on the soft fur. Suddenly, Dogmeat’s ears perked up, and with a howl, he bolted for the doors. His heart rising in his chest, the ghoul chased after him, towards the slowly-increasing noise of an motorcycle.

The engine had barely any time to quiet before Gob and the mutt slammed through the doors. Dogmeat ran across the lobby towards the girl and her father, nearly knocking them both over as they dismounted from the motorcycle.

James was shorter than he would have thought – only an inch or two taller than his daughter – and he had bags under his eyes to rival her fictional ones. He wasn’t well armored, or, well, armed with so much as a pistol, and his age showed, both in his appearance and in how he moved. How on earth he’d made it so long, alone, Gob had to wonder. Pure charisma?

He trailed after the dog, hands in his pockets as he held himself back from reaching out to her. She turned, shooing the dog away from her father, and her eyes filled with emotion the second they caught his. Her mouth moved to form his name – he knew the shape of it when he saw it, knew the shape of it when _she_ said it – and she stepped towards him. His arms encircled her before he could help it; her hands wrapped themselves in the back of his shirt. She breathed long and deep into his shirt, and he got a sense that it was her first calm breath since leaving.

A cough behind the pair made them jump apart, even though it was obviously the cough of an old man catching his breath, not the one of a father waiting to be introduced.

“ Dad, this is Gob. He’s my – “

“Oh, Carol’s son!”  Despite his exhausted appearance and poor health, James spoke with obvious enthusiasm. “I’m  so  glad to see you’re doing well for yourself,  boy .”

Gob by no stretch thought he was doing well for himself, but he let it go, as he repressed a flinch at ‘boy.’ It was affectionately meant, he had to remind himself; not a warning, as Moriarty had so often used it.

Lucy must have noticed his discomfort, even if she didn’t know the cause. She moved to take his hand, and her eyes narrowed at her father. “I didn’t tell you that.”

“ No, I knew Carol and Greta back when.” He waved off her shock. “I believe I’ll go have a meal with them  after I get cleaned up , are they still upstairs?”  He turned to go, leaving his daughter gaping at this new knowledge. 

 

It was clear folks were trying not to gawk as the wanderer and her long-lost father entered the mail hall. James smiled casually at those whose eyes he caught, taking the time to greet the ones he remembered.

_ Definitely charisma getting him by _ , Gob thought.  The family resemblance between father and daughter was obvious; his smile was a near duplicate of his daughter’s. 

She, though,  seemed to sag  as she walked,  and whether it was exhaustion or  just  relief at the whole thing being done, he couldn’t tell, and he nudged her shoulder as they trailed after James,  mouthing a silent  _ you okay? _

Lucy nodded, lightly, but gripped his hand tighter all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is the last chapter of this fic as a Teen-rated work. just a heads up.


	9. Tunnels

Gob closed his book when the door snapped shut behind Lucy.

“He’s all settled at Carol’s. We’re gonna head over and get the Brotherhood to clean out the Memorial tomorrow.” She sighed and curled up on the mattress, forehead burrowing into the ghoul’s knee, her shower-damp hair fanning out on the blankets.

“Shouldn’t you... rest?” He scrunched his brow and looked down at her. He smiled, softly; her glasses sat askew, exposing one brown eye.

“I’d love to, but Dad thinks it’d be _encouraging_ for the saint of the wastes to tag along with the big, scary folks in power suits.” Lucy twisted, wrinkling her nose, and her glasses shifted worse. Gob almost moved to fix them, but she snatched them off, shoving them precariously on the closest shelf, before he could reach. Her gaze flicked to his raised hand; he moved to scratch his arm, instead. “I guess I agree. It’s fine. How was it here?”

“Safe. I could get used to it.” She smiled at that, but he could still see something was wrong. She’d acted odd since coming back – she was jumpy, sad, and she’d ripped off her Pip-Boy the moment she could. “You alright, Luce?”

“Yeah. No.” The girl sat and began fiddling with a stray thread on the blanket. “Just the same old – a shitheaded bad person doing shitheaded bad things, innocent people suffering for it. Same old.”

Gob hugged her around the shoulders. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he said, quietly.

“Thanks.” She reached up and gave his hand a squeeze, then bolted upright. “Our parents knew each other!”

\---

It took the better part of two days for Lucy and the Brotherhood to fully secure the Memorial, and a good chunk of another for the scientists to finish setting up their equipment. Gob did his best to stay busy, while avoiding the scattered Brotherhood knights guarding the Memorial. He helped the scientists as they needed it – help they accepted graciously enough; their botanist, Janice, was even friendly with him. Li, much as he expected from Lucy’s stories about her, turned up her nose every time he entered the room – which was fine with him, really, since he wasn’t there to talk, anyway.

Lucy split her time between the Memorial and Underworld, leaving early and staying late, making the half hour hike each night rather than get her five hours of sleep at the Memorial. Most nights she’d collapse into the mattress, hand curling into his in her last moments of wakefulness; the others, Gob awoke to a warm body snuggling into him, even as the weather hinted at summer.

It was late one afternoon when Lucy snagged his hand and pulled him over to a small door behind a stack of crates. Her bag clanked with glass bottles as she led him down the access tunnel piping. They sat in front of a grate, displaying a view of the sun setting across the Potomac. She set her Pip-Boy down, turning on the flashlight and switching the radio to low volume.

“Pretty, right?” she hummed, cracking open and handing him the first soda. She settled against the pipe wall with her own lukewarm drink, sighing contentedly. “This is my spot, don’t tell Dad or he’ll find some ‘real’ use for it. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to just… chill, you know.”

He knew. Days of her running back and forth, of the pair hardly having time to catch up, let alone relax. Their museum day seemed ages ago now, even though it had barely been a month past.

“It’s strange to think there’s actually hope for DC,” he commented. “But I guess, I uh, didn’t have much hope for myself that long ago, either. Weird.”

“Told you, Gob, things are gonna get better.” Lucy elbowed him, gently, and laughed, the soft sound echoing in their pipe. “I guess now I can finally get started on all the stuff I want to do.”

He turned to her, surprised. “You haven’t already? You deserve to be selfish, after busting your butt on this place.”

“Well, it’s kind of – it affects – it’s more than just me, you know?” Her skin flushed, and she started to roll her half-empty bottle between her palms. “It affects someone else. It, well, it affects you, a bit.”

“You want your room back, I’m thinking?” He smiled, crookedly, despite the pit developing in his stomach. They’d had good times there, but it was understandable if she wanted her privacy back, now that they would spend all day working around each other.

“No, no, sort of the – no – do you remember that time I got you nailed by centaur spit, and we were sitting there, patchin’ each other up, and I was all, ‘ _this seems like a_ great _place to have a serious discussion!_ ’” Lucy’s voice ticked upwards as she spoke, and Gob could swear she was shifting away from him.

“… Yes? And then you didn’t want to talk about it, I thought?” Gob said, confused. He’d wondered about that never-started-never-finished discussion nearly every day since, but she’d been dodgy, and he wasn’t pushy. And, he realized, she was definitely putting space between them. Hardly a good sign.

“Yeah, well, stuff with Dad is finally wrapped up, and I thought, maybe now’s a good time to approach problem number two.” She seemed to freeze as the words left her lips.

“… Problem?” His mouth went dry. “I – I didn’t do something wrong, did I?”

The space she’d so carefully seemed to put between them vanished in a heartbeat as she plopped herself in front of him and took his hands in hers. “No, no, no, never, no. It’s my problem, it’s maybe yours, too, it’s kind of _our_ problem. But not, not a _wrong_ problem, and hell, maybe it’s _not_ a problem.” The girl hesitated, gnawing on her lower lip. “God, Gob, I’m not good at this – you know how when you put stuff off, because it might change things and maybe not the way you want, you get way, way worse at doing it?”

He laughed, a short, cheerless sound, before he could stop himself. God, if he didn’t know just how that went. “Yeah.”

Lucy’s brow creased further. “I’m making this so much worse, huh.”

“Maybe not worse, but, um, not easier, definitely not less confusing. Luce, why don’t you just tell me, if it’s nothing bad?” At the least, it would stop the ache in his stomach.

As Lucy knelt in front of him, the green light of the Pip-Boy’s flashlight illuminating her face, he could see tears forming in her eyes. Gob leaned forward, and pressing a hand to her cheek, swiped away an escaped droplet. “Hey, no, we’ll work it out, yeah? Whatever it is. I trust you.”

She looked at him, her smooth palm holding his rough one in place at her cheek. “Okay.”

He felt her hand on his shoulder before he saw her movements in the green-lit darkness. Before he could hug back, or ask what she was doing upon realizing it was not, in fact, a hug, there she was. Her lips, soft despite their being chapped, pressed against his ever so lightly, just as she had those first few times she’d reached for his hand, waiting for his fingers to brush hers before fully entwining.

Gob’s lips moved, barely, before he jerked back, nearly hitting his head on the pipe. He could smack himself for the reaction, but no, no, this wasn’t where the big scary talk was supposed to go – he must have misinterpreted things, again, surely. Or she was mistaken, had meant to peck him on the cheek or forehead, in her friendly way. “What are you doing?” he asked, his withdrawn hand reaching for her, unsure.

Her glasses sat crooked, and she made a small attempt at righting them, her brown eyes – dark in the absence of light, the deepness drawing him in, holding his gaze in an entirely different way from the gold-flecked versions he usually caught glimpses of – peeked at him over scratched lenses. “Being selfish.”

A beat passed, one long moment, and then their lips crashed together, chapped and rough, two years worth of longing in every breath. Their knees pressed together as the two leaned into the kiss; one of Gob’s hands found itself tangling in her braids, just as hers cradled his face.

It occurred to him to wonder how she could stand to touch him, kiss him, but he shut it down just as fast. She’d never expressed any of the revulsion at his scarred skin the way others did; she’d taken his hands time and time again, kissed him, in ways he realized now were not, perhaps, as plainly platonic as he’d thought. They’d danced in the dark of Moriarty’s saloon, held hands in plain sight of the entirety of Megaton for months, curled up together in bed, even, and he’d spent the whole time brushing it off as Lucy being odd; Lucy being a vaultie; Lucy being… _Lucy_.

Apparently Lucy being Lucy extended to her plopping herself on his lap and sitting her stocky legs on either side of him.

“You okay?” she asked, noticing him hesitate. “Sorry, I can – “

“I’m fine,” he replied, tugging her back as she started to shift back. He stopped, hands snapping off her waist. “Are you…?” he asked, trailing off.

“Yep.” She nudged his hands back into place – would have barely needed to, were the shock of it all not still slowing the ghoul’s reactions.

They stayed like that, sitting close, eyes locked on each other, for what must have been a full minute, before they both burst into giggles. The laughter soon faded back to silence, though, and Gob felt her fingers brush a clump of hair behind his ear. Lucy’s fingers rested there, palm brushing his jaw.

“You know Nova teased me for liking you. Like every time you turned your back.” She rolled her eyes, grinning. “I didn’t know til we were on the road. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Life was kind of...” She shrugged. “Messy.”

“I don’t mind your mess,” he replied, realizing as he said it how sappy, how _too much_ , it sounded.

But before Gob could say more, adjust the words to be, perhaps, less overwhelming, she kissed him again. His breath hitched as she pulled back to trail kisses from his lips to ear – or, well, where his ear might be.

“You’re adorable.” Lucy’s breath tickled his jawline, and he could feel her smile on his tattered skin as she continued, moving to the sensitive spot where his neck and torso met. She stopped there, rested her head on his shoulder. “I was gonna tell you before I left. But, um, I chickened out. Even though you got all cute, then, too.”

His cheeks, fortunately, couldn’t have become any more flushed than they already were, though he was sure she could feel the heat building on his skin.

“You said I was _kind_ , and I just…” Her voice wavered, and he began to rub her back, causing her to burrow further into him. “In the vault, I’ve said, but you watched out for yourself there – not super different from here, I guess. What I mean is, you said all those wonderful things about me, but if there’s any kindness in me now, it’s because of _you_. Because of how sweet you were to that _wreck_ that walked in back then.”

She pulled back, cupping his cheek in her soft hand, her dark eyes locked on his pale ones. “I don’t mean I was broken and you fixed me or anything stupid like that, but Gob, everything I do out here… You deserve a better world, Gob. I want to give it to you.”

“Luce...“ he started, the rest of his words catching in his throat.

He settled instead, for kissing her first, this time. Again, he felt her lips tick upwards into a smile, as one of her hands drifted up his shirt, purposefully tickling him as she worked her way up, the shirt fabric bunching the further she went. It wasn’t much, he knew, but his pants grew tighter all the same, as did her mischievous grin.

“Lucy?” James’ voice echoed from the end of the pipe, and her hand snapped down and back, and she was scrambling to her feet, a muttered stream of curses tumbling from her lips. “Gob?”

He snapped his gaze away from her lips and followed her to his feet.

“Yeah, dad?” she shouted back, reaching over to smooth Gob’s shirt front.

“We could use some help in B4, come down there, please.” His footsteps sounded near the end of the pipe.

“ _We’re coming be there in a second!_ ”

Gob laughed silently as she rushed to gather her things. “Isn’t there a radio on that thing?” he asked, indicating the Pip-Boy.

“Yes,” Lucy grunted. She looked back to Gob and bit her lip. “To be continued, maybe?”

“To be continued.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY so this was the longest.. chapter... yet! what i'm going to do is post the To Be Continued bit as a separate fic - one, so i don't mislead folks into thinking this fic's gonna be E rated throughout (because sometimes ya just want a long fic with lots of graphic junk, and i feel that), and two, so i can take my time with it while continuing the story. i will be sure to leave a link to it in the notes when it's finished.
> 
> thanks for sticking around, everyone.
> 
> (also, fun fact, my dad totally walked in on me & my beet-red face right as i was writing the scene directly before james nearly walks in on l & g. thanks, dads, please don't do that.)


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